Stony Bridge
by JZ65
Summary: Water rushing forty feet below me. It's chilly, but I'm not too worried. My mind is made up, until a girl behind me almost startles me right off the edge. "What're you doing?" Before I know it, we're sitting on the railing together, and I don't feel so alone anymore. One-Shot. AU. Warning: Trigger: Involves talking about suicide.


**I would like to start off by saying that this just popped into my head. Also the song is mine. WARNING: Does deal with/talks about suicide. **

**Please, if you're thinking about suicide, contact someone. There are hotlines that are ready to listen. You are never alone.**

**I don't own Pitch Perfect.**

**-JZ65**

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><p><em><strong>There's this girl…<strong>_

_**I met her at the old Stony Bridge.**_

_**She saved my life…**_

_**I wish I could have saved hers.**_

"What're you doing over there?" I jumped at the voice, almost losing my footing on the cement railing. As I turned to address my intruder, I was left with my mouth agape at the sight of a short brunette walking towards me. She was so beautiful, even in the misty fog that hung around us like a veil.

"I'm just… just…" My throat constricted, tears swelling at the brim of my eyelids. She probably thought I was just an attention seeking whore… like everyone else.

"Bad day?" Her rich voice caught me off guard, finding no judgment hidden in the textures that she delivered. A black leather jacket with a grey hood hung loosely around her frame, barely clinging to the edges just like her jeans did around her bony hips. I couldn't trust my words, so I nodded, balancing above the rushing water forty feet below me. "They're wrong. What they say to you. They're wrong."

"How do you know that?" I spat venomously, glaring as she leaned against the railing with crossed arms. Her navy irises were so sad, and so tired.

"Because they always are. Those people… they say things—"

"I've heard all that self-help shit before. I'm so tired of having to fight through school every single day!" I was panting, my long fingers clenched in fists of rage and defeat.

"I know." Sighing, the brunette teen pulled herself up on the railing beside me. My eyes widened comically, and she chuckled with a lopsided smirk.

"What are you doing? Get down!" I shout, despite us being less than two feet from each other. "Are you stupid?"

"My name's Beca." She reached over with her hand, the sleeve of her jacket riding up enough for me to see the scars on her wrist. But Beca didn't shy away as I stared, just continued with a smirk and was waiting. With a nod, I shake her cold hand, feeling the way her fingers didn't exactly line up with her knuckles. "And you are?" I turn my face away, pushing back a strand of my ugly red hair.

"Chloe Beale." Whispered out my name with a mere shell of my old voice. Beca's grin widened, pointing out at the sunset so far away from us and you couldn't see the proper outline of the sun. But the fog couldn't dim and push away all of the faint orange glow. "What?"

"The sun is always beautiful here. Even if you can't always see it, it's always bright and warm." Beca groaned with a sly smirk as I quirked an eyebrow at her. "That was totally lame, wasn't it?"

"No, it was sweet." I smiled for the first time this week, and that caused Beca's face to light up.

"Chloe Beale, do my eyes deceive me or am I looking at the most beautiful girl in the world?" This stranger was definitely cheesy, or blind. But I giggled, shaking my head.

"You're eyes are deceiving you."

"Hmm… I think it's your eyes that can't see properly." She smiled sadly at me, staring back out at the faded glow.

"It's not safe up here." I murmur a little lower, afraid someone would hear me… although nobody would care anyways.

"I know that, Chloe. So why are you here?" Her playful tone didn't silence her seriousness. "Why are you making a permanent decision based on a temporary feeling?"

"You think this is temporary? Every single day I go to school hoping it'll be different. But it never is. It never gets better, the rumors and hate never stops. I'm so tired of hurting all the time." I don't know when I started to cry, but the tears were streaming down my cheeks faster than the water cascading down the river below us. "I'm tired of everybody hating me."

"Yeah, I know what that's like. But this, what you're thinking about doing, that won't solve anything." Beca sat down, her combat boots hanging over the edge without worry or fear. I gulped, easing myself to sit also. My feet were beginning to hurt.

"How are you so sure?" Again, my whisper is so quiet I'm positive she didn't hear me. Beca must have super hearing, because a long sigh left her tiny frame.

"Experience. You don't want to die, Chloe. You just want the pain to go away. And I'm not going to promise that tomorrow will be perfect, or next week, or next month—"

"You're so inspirational." I grumble, frowning at my jeans. Beca continued on.

"But one day, you will look back. You'll remember this moment, all those feelings, and you'll be happy that you made the right choice. Chloe, you'll be happy one day. You'll go through hell and struggle a lot, but life does that to people. You're strong. You can make it. And when you do, you won't regret it." My mouth is dry, and I sniffle as I hug my arms around myself. All I wanted was to be happy. "You're not ugly, or stupid, or anything that those people say. In a couple years, they won't even be in your life. They won't care if you jump off this bridge tonight…" My bottom lip quivers, and I feel cold. But just then, a warm jacket goes around my shoulders. Beca is left in a T-shirt of an old band that used to be local years ago. I remember my friend's older brother owning some of their CDs. But it was all the scars on her arms that distracted me, visual signs of her pain. "But your family, and your friends, they'll care and it will hurt them so much."

"My parents hardly even pay attention to me." I huff, put pull the jacket tighter, hoping the warms will seep into my bones. I didn't want to look at her, knowing I'd just stare again.

"It's hard being so strong and alone for so long… I'm not saying you have to tell your parents, or even that you should. But if you trust them, and love them like I think you do, they'll listen." But it's her words that draw me in like metal to an MRI machine. I don't know how, but she's holding a CD in her hand. Maybe she had it in her jacket before she put it around me. I caught the black lettering against the reflective disc. _I'm Sorry by Beca Mitchell_.

"Did you come up here to jump too?" I take the CD from her hand, but she doesn't seem to mind as she smiles sadly and nods. "Then why are you talking me out of it?"

"Your best friend would be destroyed, wouldn't she?" I'm not sure if there was much of a question in that statement. I close my eyes, but nod while chewing my lip. I feel the CD in my hands like a testament to my suffering. Someone else felt this pain too. Someone else feels like I do. I'm not alone. "You don't want to hurt her."

"Of course not, but… but…" I feel a hand on my chin, turning my face towards her. Slowly, I flutter my eyes open and see the saddest smile. Beca is sitting right beside me, straddling the railing. "I don't want to hurt her. I don't want to hurt my parents. I just want all the bullying and hate to stop. I j-just want to be happy."

"I know, Chlo." She places a hand over her heart. "But if this stops beating, you'll never get your chance to be happy. And that would be really sad, because the world hasn't seen nearly enough smiles from you." I jolted as my phone vibrated in my pocket, and Titanium started to play. I laughed, because of course Aubrey would be calling me. I was acting weird today. Beca grinned, pointing to the phone as I pulled it out. "Titanium is super awesome! The radio played it constantly." I'm rolling my eyes, holding the phone close to my ear before I answer it. But I want to laugh at Beca.

"Yeah, maybe three years ago or something. I love this song, but they've hardly ever played it on the radio for like five years." I press the answer button, feeling bad as her enthusiasm dimmed like she just remembered something.

"Chloe! Where are you? Are you okay? I know what Margo said today was horrible. Please tell me you're okay." Bree—my best friend—sputtered into the phone in a full blown panic. I felt guilty, and thought more about Beca's words. She was right. This would hurt Bree a lot.

"I'm… I'm okay right now. But I think we need to talk tomorrow." Beca is staring at me, happiness clear in her dark eyes. I smile back.

"Alright Chlo. If you need anything EVER make sure to call me. Sometimes, I'm worried." I can tell my blonde best friend is almost in tears. "Love you, Chlo."

"I will, Bree. Thank you so much. You're the best friend ever. I love you too. We'll see each other tomorrow, I promise." After that, I felt lighter. We hung up, and I was left with Beca staring at me. "What?"

"Thank you." She sighed, closing her eyes in relief.

"I didn't do it for you, or Bree, or my parents… I did it… I think I did it for me. Because I want to be happy someday, and I know it'll only happen if I keep living." I get off the railing, standing on the solid ground again. She just turns around towards me, still sitting on the railing as she grins. "You look like a creeper." I tease lightly, taking off her jacket. "Here, I've got to get home. I need to… talk to my parents, I think."

"Have a happy life, Chloe Beale." Beca shrugged her coat back on.

"Do you want to walk together?" Again, Beca looks sad and I'm worried I said the wrong thing.

"I wish I could. But I'm staying out here for a bit longer." My skeptical glare only made her chuckle. "Tonight… tonight I'm just going to watch the stars. Don't worry Chloe, I promise." I hug her tightly, my tears staining her jacket. She's either been sweating—which isn't something I had noticed and she's super cold—or maybe the mist clung to her tightly, but she's soaked through. After pulling back, she waves off my worries with a shrug. "Get home, Chlo. Be happy."

"Thank you." As I turn, I realized I'm still holding her CD. "Sorry, here—"

"Keep it. I don't need it anymore." Beca Mitchell shrugged, and I saw her still sitting there as I walked off, turning around to peak over my shoulder every few steps. Eventually, I was too far away to see her through the fog. I ran home, my steps lighter even though my heart was still heavy. I knew the conversation tonight with my parents would be hard, but I wanted help. Maybe they could come up with some ideas to get the bullying at school to stop, or the cyberbullying. With each step, I saw all my opportunities brightening, drowning out the hateful voices of Margo and her minions at school.

_**It's been almost five years now.**_ I'm a senior in college at Barden University. It's been a tough few years, but I've had so many good memories with my friends. Aubrey is still my BFF, and I have a pretty awesome boyfriend named Luke. He's super sweet, and runs the radio station. Aubrey and I live in an apartment together, but Luke asked me to move in with him after we graduate. Aubrey is going off to medical school on the east coast, and I think Luke and I are ready for this step. We've been dating for two years. Aubrey always teases me about landing a 'hot British artist' but I just roll my eyes. She's been dating Stacie for most of the year. But things haven't always been rosy. Last week, one of the students committed suicide. I didn't know him, but I did feel his struggle. I wish I could have helped him like Beca helped me.

"Before you all leave, I want you to know that if anyone here ever needs to talk, my door is open. As some of you know, my daughter committed suicide ten years ago." My head snapped up to the front. Professor Mitchell—my Comparative Literature professor—went to a picture on his desktop. "Rebeca… Beca, she hated it when I called her Rebeca, was feeling a lot of pain and didn't think she had anyone to turn to. So if you think you're alone, you're not. And there are resources right here on campus." Aubrey gasped from my right side, and I do to as I see the picture. That was Beca—my life saving Beca. Aubrey covers her mouth, tears at the corner of her eyes. "You're all dismissed."

"That's Beca… Jesse's best friend from high school. He was so broken after she jumped." Aubrey blurted out, not getting up from her seat. I blinked in shock.

"No, that's not possible. That's the Beca that I told you about. The one that talked me out of jumping off the old bridge five years ago." I point, but the picture is gone now. Professor Mitchell was packing up his things. Aubrey swallowed, shaking her head vehemently. "She saved my life."

"Trust me, Chloe. I know that was Jesse's friend. He still keeps the picture of them sorting through CDs together." Jesse was usually a bubbly guy, but he wasn't during high school. Being Aubrey's older brother, there were a lot of pressures put on the boy by their father. And Aubrey told me that Jesse and his best friend were bullied pretty badly. I knew Jesse's friend had died, but never knew who it really was or how it happened. "Beca jumped off the old bridge ten years ago. She was a Sophomore with Jesse."

"Ladies, are you two okay?" Dr. Mitchell smiled at us tiredly.

"I'm Aubrey Posen. Jesse is my older brother." Realization swept over Roy Mitchell's face, and he sighed with a shake of his head.

"Jesse was a great friend to Beca." He smiled a bit, tilting his head at Aubrey. "She also said that his little sister was the only elementary schooler she had met with the vocabulary of a college student." The blonde blushed, recalling how she would scold Beca for 'ear monstrosities' and always defending herself from Jesse about having a crush on the brunette.

"Dr. Mitchell—"

"Please, call me Roy." He smiled at me.

"Roy… umm… did Beca wear a leather jacket with a grey hood? And a shirt for the band Lev—"

"Leviathan." He finished for me, his face considerably paler. I wasn't sure if this was a good idea anymore. "Yeah, she was wearing that when she… when… when she jumped." He took a deep breath, pain staking his heart with the words as they fell. "Why do you ask? Did you know her?"

"I… not really." I chewed my lip, not wanting to sound insane. "Doc—Roy, umm… a few years ago, I went to that bridge. I was having a really hard time, and I just wanted to end it all. But when I was staring at the water, a girl asked me what I was doing." I smiled, remembering the night that changed my life. "She stayed with me the entire time I was up there. She told me I'd be happy one day, but I needed to live to get there. She… S-She said her name was B-Beca. She saved my life." I'm not sure if Roy believed me, but then I saw the tears streaming down his face. He chuckled, and it sounded so much like the brunette girl that I wanted to hug him. He smiled through the water and choked sobs.

"God that sounds just like Beca." He wipes his tears after a few moments, shaking his head. "So it must be true then."

"What?" I ask curiously. Aubrey purses her lips, confused by the man's acceptance.

"A boy named Benji came in here a couple years ago. Said Beca saved him from jumping too." Roy picked up his bag, smiling softly at them. "Thank you so much ladies. If you ever need or want to talk, I'm always here. And… I'm glad Beca helped you. I think that's why her music was so good… she always wrote songs that helped people." As he walked out of the classroom, all I could think about was Beca's CD. I never looked at it before because I figured she gave it to me to destroy or something. I wanted to respect her privacy. But now… now I really wanted to know what was on it. Beca seemed like such a nice and good person from how she helped me. It was hard to imagine that she was already gone.

"Hey Aubrey…"

"Yeah Chlo?" She muttered, her backpack on her shoulder.

"I want you to watch something with me." I was nervous. I didn't want to hurt her, but I really needed Aubrey to see if it really was the same Beca.

"Okay."

As we sat down on the couch, the laptop positioned between us, I took the old CD out of the case. Aubrey's eyes widened as she read the sharpie written on the top. She took a deep breath, but determination was written on her face. I had moved to Barden in the seventh grade, but Aubrey had told me she had a crush on her brother's best friend a couple years earlier. It was easy to tell why after meeting the brunette.

"Are you ready?" I asked, and she nodded with a hesitant smile. I pressed play on the keyboard, and Beca sat on her bed with her guitar next to her.

"_I'm tired, really tired. Every single day, I have to know that I'm going to be kicked, or punched, screamed at, and always laughed at. God, it sucks so bad. Worse yet, I drag Jesse into it every time." Beca runs a hand through her hair, her scars visible even with the low quality video. "They don't get it. They don't know what it's like to have everyone hate you. To have your parents hate each other, then ignore and blame you. They call me a freak and a fag. I'm not sure if it's because I like music, cut, or that I'm actually gay. I don't know why they hate me so much." With a choked sob, Beca picks up her guitar._

"_Walking through the halls today,_

_Broken soul._

_A freak they say._

_I tell my best friend,_

_He has to stay away._

_We both know how much it hurts,_

_To feel the fist and hear those words._

_He'd be better off so fucking far away._

'_Cuz I'm their target,_

_In the crosshairs,_

_It's open season,_

_And I'm on the market._

_I'm a freak, _

_It's all my fault._

_Stupid this,_

_Ugly that._

_Oh god look,_

_She's so fat._

_Emo cutter,_

_Short fuckin' rat._

_I'm the freak,_

_And it's all my fault._

_I'm so sorry I'm not perfect._

_I'm so sorry I'm just a freak._

_But do you know your words, they hurt me?_

_Do you know they cut me deep?_

_You think you're so funny,_

_A clever bitch, and fuckin' smart._

_Bet you didn't know that,_

_It's tearing up my bleeding heart._

'_Cuz I'm the target,_

_Open season._

_In the crosshairs,_

_I'm on market._

_Little slut,_

_Emo cunt._

_Attention whore,_

_Oh give me more._

_Damn lazy bitch,_

_Oh fuck that's rich._

_Attention whore,_

_Oh give me more…_

_Oh give me more._

_I'm so sorry I'm not perfect._

_I'm so sorry I'm just a freak._

_But do you know your words, they hurt me?_

_Do you know they cut me deep?_

_You think you're so funny,_

_A clever bitch, and fuckin' smart._

_Bet you didn't know that,_

_It's tearing up my bleeding heart._

_I'm so sorry I'm not perfect,_

_So sorry I'm just a freak._

_Your words they fuckin' kill me._

_Deep inside they make me bleed._

_And I know I'm sorry,_

_It's all my fault…"_

"_So… I guess that about sums it up." Beca wiped away the tears that slid down her cheeks during her song. The guitar rhythm had been soft, and even the hate in her words was so self-loathing that it twisted her song into such a broken melody. She took a deep breath, holding up her arms. "This started when I was seven. My parents got into a huge fight. At first, I told myself I'd do it once… and never again. But then I went to third grade, and everyone hated me. They said horrible things about my mom. I didn't realize until later that it was because she had bipolar disorder. The whole town thought of it as some sick disease… And it only got worse when everyone found out my dad was cheating on my mom with his secretary. After the two split, I only had Jesse. He's seriously the best person alive. He's the only one that's supportive about me being gay and liking other girls… well, not any of the girls at our school. I wish… I wish I could be happy."_

_Putting on the black leather jacket, Beca smiled at the camera before picking it up off the desk it was recording from. She held it in front of her, and you could see the remnants of a black eye and a busted lip._

"_I guess this is it. I'm going to the old Stony Bridge. It's always so peaceful up there. The fog rolls in around dusk, and you can barely see the sun as it sets. I want to see one last sunset before… before I'm gone. Jesse, I hope somehow you find this and get to see it. You're my best friend. I love you, buddy. I know this'll hurt my parents, but I'm so sorry for hurting you Jesse. You'll move on though. Be happy. You have a real chance at it. Oh, and if you don't hate me, make sure to tell your sister that she'll be okay too. Aubrey was always sweet, in her own demanding, bratty sort of way. It was almost like she was my little sister too… So it'll probably piss her off that I still have my ear monstrosities in. Love you both. And I guess… if this CD doesn't surviving the fall… well, I guess it's just meant to be then. Goodbye."_

The video was done, and I just stared at the screen. Beca's last frame was a smile, through bleeding lip and blackened eye, she smiled sadly. The whole night on the bridge five years ago, it made sense now. It made sense how Beca wanted me to live, how she knew so much about how I was feeling. I wish I could have been there, or helped her somehow. But I knew there wasn't.

"Beca…" Aubrey cried silently beside me. I set the laptop on coffee table, letting Aubrey release her sobs into my shoulder. My own eyes glistening.

"_Mhmm…" _

I whip my head around as I heard someone clear their voice. I see the laptop, and it's playing. But it's not from the beginning. This time, Beca is sitting on the Stony Bridge railing. My mouth is hanging open, and Aubrey notices my stiffened posture. Pulling back, she gasps when she sees the screen. It's poorer quality, the image occasionally going static like an old VHS tape. Beca is waving at the camera.

"_Thank you so much. When I jumped, I placed the CD on the railing, hoping someone would find it. The police never did. It had fallen and gotten stuck in a crack between the railing and the bridge. Chloe Beale, I know you're happy right now. If you're watching this, then you figured it out." Beca sighed, her smile sad but there was a light of hope in her eyes. "There have been a lot of people over the years. I don't want them to make the same mistake I did. Chlo, thank you. And I know the song might be old to you, but… You are Titanium."_

"That's impossible." Bree whispered, but it was right there. Beca looked just like how she was when I was talking to her. Aubrey looked at me now, her face full of happiness. "I'm so happy you didn't jump."

"So am I." I smile. And I was telling the truth. I know it's crazy, and so many won't believe me. But this is my story.

_**There's this girl…**_

_**I met her at the old Stony Bridge.**_

_**She saved my life…**_

_**I wish I could have saved hers.**_

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><p><strong>I hope this was okay? I know it's different from my usual, but I am very passionate about anti-bullying and suicide prevention. Growing up, I had my own experiences with bullying and it's a horrible thing to go through. I've also been in that dark place where it feels like there's no way to get out before. Just like everyone, I feel like, I had that moment when I had a choice. In my experience, I had a choice to either take that step or not to. And I'm very glad that I didn't. Because maybe things weren't better right away, or even the next couple weeks, but they did get better. I'm happy, and I'm living my life. I try new things every chance I get, and I don't worry about all the negative people because I have friends and family that make a light in the darkness.<strong>

**So if you or someone you know is thinking about suicide, please call a hotline or talk to somebody. You are never alone.**

**-JZ**

**P.S.- I wrote the song. Sorry if it's not great-or good-it's definitely out of my element.**


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